Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/275

Rh The front door opens into a spacious hall, at the extremity of which flowers and evergreens are arranged one above another, like the terrace of a conservatory; and from the entries above you look down into this pretty work of 'greenery.' The whole aspect of things is extremely pleasant, with the exception of the sailors themselves. They reminded me of what some one said of the Greenwich pensioners, 'They seem to be waiting for death!' No outward comfort seemed wanting; but they stood alone in the world, no wives, no children. Connected by no link with the ever active Present, a monotonous Future stretched before them, made more dreary by its contrast with the keen excitement and ever-shifting variety of their past life of peril and pleasure. I have always thought too little provision was made for this lassitude of the mind, in most benevolent institutions. Men, accustomed to excitement, cannot do altogether without it. It is a necessity of nature, and should be ministered to in all innocent forms. Those poor old tars should have sea-songs, and instrumental music, once in a while, to stir their sluggish blood, and a feast might be given on great occasions, to younger sailors, from temperance boarding-houses, that the Past might have a chance to hear from the Present. We perform but a half charity when we comfort the body and leave the soul desolate."

"The sailor cannot be ignorant, without being superstitious too. The Infinite comes continually before him, in the sublimest symbols of sight and sound.